FatePenumbras  The Seventh Seal
by Shadowtc91
Summary: 7 servants. Summoned for 1 purpose. This is the holy lance war. A war greater than the previous 5 only with more twists and pitfalls than one could ever imagine. Encompassing past present and the end of the world. Ride dear heroes and face War.
1. Chapter 1

Fate/Penumbras

Wisps of smoke rise from his body as he coughs and tries desperately to catch his breath. On all fours he's dry heaving and rocking back and forth panting. The girl standing before him leans down to help the man but he rolls over onto his back before her frail hand can touch him. She's hesitant to lean down to check on him. He sputters and spasms. The long dark blade she holds in her other hand gleams in the warm candle light as its shifts weight in her grip. The crimson of the fading summoning circle illuminates the man's outline. His dark eyes shine out from under his helmet. He arches his back and coughs a few more times. Blood runs out the corner of his mouth. She takes a long deep breath and wills herself to kneel down and touch his chest.

The room is filled with the smell of blood and ash. His neck has long lines of blood working their way over his collar bones and under his breast plate as the liquid streams out of his mouth. At once she's muttering an incantation under her breath. The room is immediately bathed in a blue glow to match the red from the circle below the both of them. Slowly the blood flow tappers off and finally stops. He remains on the floor, panting and gulping for air. Only now does she notice the three broken shards of metal jutting from his chest. They only stick out about half an inch and therefore easily overlooked. She slides her hand along his armor until her fingers gently probe the splintered metal. She curses under her breath. This time she closes her eyes and concentrates for several seconds before starting the second incantation. This one has many more verses and she sings them out in a melodic chant.

He spasms and shrieks in agony as the shards slowly pull themselves from his breastplate. She opens her eyes to find all three bloody splinters dripping from the palm of her open hand. His eyes are wide open and his finger nails have made long gashes in her hardwood floors. His face and arms covered in beads of sweat as his chest rises and falls in short breaths. She looks down at her hand which contains the shards. They all appear to be pieces of a sword. Between the broken pieces are chunks of flesh and pink organ tissue. Her lips form the word 'lungs' but no noise escapes. The room is only filled with the sounds of their shallow breathing. Having successfully removed the wound and clotted the bleeding she works on repairing the flesh. She drops the sword pieces beside the two of them and sets her black blade down as well. With both her hands on his chest, she spreads her fingers wide and mutters two short lines of a similar chant to the first two.

The blue light seems to concentrate itself around her hands and up her arms. Then all at once it forces itself into his wound. He reaches a hand up and grips her arm, squeezing and whimpering. His mouths open as the remnant blood gargles in the back of his throat. Teeth stained red. Saliva bubbling and frothing he falls silent and let's his grip lighten. A large pool of sticky blood as made its way to all the corners of her bedroom. She swallows another large gulp of air and swings her leg over him. He lets his arm fall to the floor with a thud. Pelvis to pelvis, she uses her weight to force her hands harder onto his wound. She mutters the chant several more times, pumping the blue light into him time after time. He flinches each time, but remains silent. Mouth closed, eyes fixed upon her's.

Her tears stream down her face in waves now. The chant grows faint as her words are lost in the sobs. But finally after the seventh pump of her hands, she stops and collapses onto his chest, sobbing and shaking with exhaustion. He reaches up and wraps his hands around her body. Blood coating them both as they slow their breathing and rest in the light of her apartment. Her command seals remain a bright light emanating from her hand as it's pressed between the two of them. They lie there as she cries softly into his tattered clothing and cold armor. His arms wrap her in what little comfort he can provide. Slowly she falls asleep, drifting away as she listens to his strong heartbeat. Under her breath she whispers the words "I'm not going to let you leave me…"

The morning wakes her with rays of golden lights piercing the room full of smoke and delirium. She's curled up in several bed sheets and couch cushions. Her long brown hair scattered along the large pillow her head is propped up on. She pulls the sheets up to her face and yawns as the sun reaches her eyelids. Her green eyes show through her long eye lashes. She yawns again and stretches her arms out, reaching for the ceiling. Her eyes open wide and blink a few times. Then instantly she's sitting up and wide awake as she remembers the night previous. Her hand runs through her hair a few times as she tries to recall all the details. She's cursing a few times and replaying it over and over in her head trying to differentiate her memories between dreams and reality.

Then the long grooves beside her resting place catch her eyes. The long scars in her hardwood floor left there from her servant's fingernails. She leans over and runs her fingers along the grooves to make sure she's not seeing things. With a nod of her head she confirms they're real. As if to remember something extremely important she flips over her hand to look for her command seals. And there they are; in red brilliance, like rich crimson tattoos. She flings the sheets off her body and gets to her feet. She's in a night gown. She looks down at it in disbelief. The night before she wore her school clothing. Confused and determined she gets to her feet and crosses the room toward the window. With a yank of a string, the blinds covering her window pull themselves up with a loud metallic clatter. The entire room is filled with a radiant glow of morning sunlight.

A set of red and orange armor has been propped up in the corner of the room topped with a red spiked helmet. She passes them on the way to the other rooms of her apartment. Down the hall, she strolls nimbly on the balls of her feet. The floor cold but comforting. Past the empty bathroom, past the empty second bedroom, right into the front room where her couch has been stripped of its cushions and pillows. Her kitchen is connected to the front room/ living room via a bar. She breezes through the rooms toward the sliding glass doors at the end of the room. Ripping them open, she stands in the chilly morning air out on her balcony. Her servant stands there motionless looking at her frowning face.

"Good morning master." He murmurs in a rough voice as he leans on her balcony's metal railing. "I made you some tea, its warming up on the stove." It's the first time she's seen his face. His half grin makes her frown disappear. His black hair sticks out in all different directions from atop his head. Each strand appears to be a different length from the others. The tips of several spikes are orange while others are yellow and still others are red. Some of it seems matted down. Probably a combination of dried blood and helmet hair. His face is smooth and his irises are black. He has light stubble lining his jaw and chin. "Sorry I didn't give you a formal introduction last night, but I am Berserker, your servant." There is a long pause as she finds the right words to say.

"What happened last night?" She's barely able to form those simple words.

"I have no idea…" His voice trails off as he pushes himself off the railing and stands in front of her. He's just above her height. He must be 5'9" or 5'10". She's 5'7". "It might have been an error in summoning." She balls up her fists and barks a retort right back at him as flippantly as she can manage.

"You had a fucking sword blade shattered inside your chest, that's not an error in my summoning! There's no way I did that! And you should be thankful! If not for my quick action, you'd be dead." She's practically screaming at him.

"I could have managed." He smirks. "If you had pushed yourself any harder, you would have killed yourself from mana loss."

"Could have managed? Fuck you!" She crosses the five feet between them and grabs his ripped blood stained clothes. "You're welcome asshole!" She's panting and sputtering through gritted teeth.

"Alright fine. Thank you…" He holds up his arms to show he means no ill-will. She loosens her grip, but continues to pull on his shirt. She slowly calms herself and relaxes.

"What was the last thing you remember? Maybe we can piece together what happened based on that." She backs away a half step and releases her grip, leaning against the wall, still trying to slow her breathing.

"The battle of Armageddon." He says with a sigh.


	2. Chapter 2

Note from writer:

I'm fairly busy lately, so chapters will be weekly. I will also post servant pages as they reveal themselves. Enjoy.

Chapter 2

Lancer stands atop a skyscraper with her thick brown hair tied behind her in a single white ribbon. The lightning rods above her flash various colors to warn the low flying planes. She hums softly to herself. Her white lance is strapped to her black, wrapped loosely in a white cloth. Her hands flex and clinch as the chilly wind blows straight through her thin armor. Rider stands beside her. He looks to her as she hums and smiles. Her master stands a ways back reading from his cell phone. Rider steps closer to Lancer as her humming finishes. "You said he'd be here tonight, are you still certain?"

"Yes dear Rider, I am quite certain." Her voice seems to have a melody under each vowel and inflection. Her tone is light and soothing but terse. Her clothing is a shade of pearl and her armor seems to cast a light of its own. Rider on the other hand has a suit of dark gray armor with swirls of emerald green. He holds his helmet beside him as he waits. Lancer looks to her master. He taps the screen of his phone a few times before putting it to his ear to listen to his voicemail. Lancer returns her gaze to the city below. "Be ready, this servant is more powerful than either of us are prepared for."

On a neighboring skyscraper sits a man with his feet hanging off the edge of the tall building. He hasn't been noticed by either of the two servants across from him. In his lap rests two wooden swords, called bokken. He is dressed in a black suit, but he wears sandals. His face is illuminated by a smoldering cigarette. He kicks his feet against the side the building as he leans back against his elbows. He's smiling. His master approaches him from behind. "Come assassin, we have things to do." The man is hidden in shadow, under a black robe. Assassin doesn't hesitate to get up and follow the man, giving the pair of servants across from him one final look.

Rider paces beside Lancer, with his hands linked behind his back. A small girl bursts through the roof access doors and trudges over to the three of them. Lancer's master doesn't even look up. The girl is dressed in a blue sun dress and black boots. She walks over to Rider and grabs his arm, wrapping herself in it. He looks perplexed and chuckles. She glares up at him. "You said it was going to be warm." She says accusingly. He laughs harder.

"If you recall, I said it would be warm during the day, this isn't like the climate of your homeland, the nights are cold here." He says to her between laughs.

"Yeah well, anywhere is warmer than here right now." She curls into his side and tries to get warm, but the cold metal of the armor doesn't help. "I should have just stayed in the bathroom." Her green eyes peer up at him. She seems to be fairly young. Early teens. Her hair falls around her back in long curls of strawberry blonde. Grass stains on her knees and bags under her eyes. "I hate jet lag."

"The enemy is on his way. Brace yourselves." Rider's master breaks away from his grasp and walks over to Lancer's master who stands with his arms folded, his black hair slicked back and his pea coat fluttering in the wind. The four of them hold their breaths, listening to the rush of the wind and the thunder from a distant storm that rages somewhere beyond the city. In a flash the building is illuminated in a red glow as a servant lands behind them causing the entire building to sway slightly. He stands upright with his deep red eyes and short spiked red hair. The group of servants and masters turn to face him. He smiles, his sharp teeth showing between his slightly parted lips.

"Seems I have an audience." He summons his sword. The long black demonic blade appears in his hand. It shimmers in the glow of Lancer's armor. He holds the sword with one hand and gestures to the group with his free hand. "How did you know I'd be here tonight?" He wears simple street clothes and talks with a subtle accent.

"A little birdie told us." Says Rider's master. The servants rush forward to protect their masters, shoving them back a few feet. "It won't matter much anyway, because you'll be dead before the sun rises over the horizon." She's rather upset to be shoved so suddenly, but it doesn't affect her taunting.

"Aren't you feisty? I will take great pleasure shoving my sword through your servant's heart." And all at once, his sword's blade catches fire. Like a blow torch, the fire jets from the hilt and encases the blade. The blue flame ends where the blade itself would end if the blade could be seen through the thick flames. "I think we've talked enough, it's time to kill all of you and be done with this." He plants his feet and swings his blade in a huge sweeping motion. A colossal wave of fire sweeps in their direction. The arc of fire hits Rider sending him spiraling backward. Lancer draws her lance and charges at the enemy. He swings his sword a second time, creating a second arc of flames. She springs off the balls of her feet and leaps into the air. Her speed is astounding as she vaults over him. She catches one of the lightning rods with a free hand uses it to slingshot herself even faster at him. Straight as an arrow, but flying at the speed of a bullet, she extends her spear. He barely raises his sword in time to block the lance before it can bury itself in his face.

Rider is back on his feet. He summons an axe that is almost as large as he is. He swings it with such ease the axe looks weightless. Using his momentum he throws the weapon at the man. In an instant, the servant sidesteps the axe, using his sword's hilt to hit Lancer across her temple. The axe boomerangs back toward the servant, but he sidesteps it again. He brings his sword back for a third fire wave, but Lancer has her lance's shaft against the sword's blade and parries it, cutting a gash in the servant's sleeve. He bats the lance aside with his sword and lunges forward. The servant wraps his fingers around Lancer's face and pushes her back. The blow is strong enough to send her and her lance off the side of the building. Flames encircle him as he turns to face Rider. Rider summons a huge green shield to prepare himself. Axe readied, he throws it again, but it misses a third time. Behind them, the sun breaks through the clouds, just over the horizon. Rider takes the servant's brief distraction as an opportunity to swing the shield up and hit the servant across the chest with the sharp edge of the shield. The flames swell around them and twist themselves into a miniature tornado. The axe hits the ground with a clatter.

Lancer's master stands in front of Rider's master with his arms raised. Golden streams of light surround the two of them and two vast feathery winds appear to wrap themselves around the pair. The tornado subsides to reveal a gash along the servant's chest and Rider lying in a heap at his feet, sword in hand, third degree burns all along Rider's neck. Lancer appears, lance fastened to her back again. Rider remains motionless on the ground, blood pooling around him, the blood stemming from his neck wound. Her armor catches the sunlight and shines even brighter. In one hand is Rider's axe and in the other is a long skinny sword with a twisted, worn handle.

In an instant, Lancer is in front of the servant brining her blade down on his head. He blocks. She swings Rider's axe as it hits him in his left arm, letting out a spray of blood, and a wounded cry from his mouth. She swings again, but he jumps back, dodging both blows. In a half smirk he lets out one line. "I know when I've been outdone, but I'll be back later to finish you both off." It startles her for half a second, but she overcomes her lapse of judgment and charges forward. She rises up her weapons for a second attack but the servant leaps off the building out into the night disappearing from view.

"Après moi, le deluge" she pants under her breath.


	3. Chapter 3

Note From author:

Had some time off, so I wrote another chapter. To my Critics and Fans… This is a very very complex story line, bear with it, don't start calling bullshit until everything had been laid out please. I think we can all agree that we called bullshit on Archer until we learned he was EMIYA and it was thoroughly explained to us, so treat this story in the same way. Lastly, if the chapters are short and a little rushed, please excuse me, I'm currently finishing my first novel and starting on my second, so this is my side-project/hobby and because of that at times it may seem like I'm only writing at 80% capacity.

Get ready for the long haul everyone. It's gonna be fun.

Chapter 3

Caster's tears flow down her cheeks in streams. Her brown curls fall about her shoulders and she uses them to hide her face. Her finger's clamped tightly over her face. She rocks back and forth on her knees. Her master stands a short distance away with a knife to a man's throat. Archer stands in the corner of the room panting and shivering. Caster's master presses the blade into the man's neck until a small line of crimson appears under the blade. "I'll ask one more time. Give me your command seals, or I will kill you right now." The blade digs deeper. Archer takes a step forward, but Caster's master presses even harder until Archer's master starts screaming.

The command seals fade from his right hand as he cries in agony against the blade. "Cali, please stop! He's given you the command seals, now let him go." Caster wails. Caster's master looks over at caster and sneers.

"Shut up you worthless tool. How many times must I tell you not to use my first name." Cali looks back to Archer, who slows his breathing and regains some composure. "I'll make you a deal Archer. As your new master, if you serve me without quarrels, I will spare your old master's life." Cali's purple eyes flash maliciously. Her pixie hair cut does not hide her wide smile like Caster's hair would. Archer is much taller than both of them, dressed in a subtle blue robe; his feet are bare against the wood floors of his old master's apartment. His head has a very short black buzz cut to accompany his fierce eyes.

"What is this feeling, why can I barely move? Why do I feel like my energy is completely drained?" He clutches his chest and watches Cali carefully.

"That, dear Archer is Caster's Noble Phantasm; the one of the only things that bitch is good for. And that slowness you're feeling, that drowsiness, that lack of energy is just the surface of what her noble phantasm is capable of." Cali looks over at Caster who has stopped crying. Caster lowers her hands from her face and just rests on her knees, motionless and broken. Cali returns her attention to Archer. She rolls her sleeve up her arm revealing five command seals creeping up her skin, starting from the back of her hand. "I am being generous Archer, if I wanted to, I could always just order you to kill your old master, but instead I am offering you a deal." Archer seems to acknowledge this as he takes a moment to think.

"If you let him go here and now, and never harm him again, I will serve you without question." Archer takes a few steps forward. Cali smiles even wider.

"You may not know this Archer, but most magi, such as myself have things called mystic codes and magic crests. Well unfortunately for me, I was adopted, I never received a magic crest. My parents were killed by a drunk driver. However, I retained their magical abilities. Over the years I've been able to refine mine and perfect it into a rather simple but powerful mystic code." She pauses to look back to Caster, and then back to Archer. She loosens the knife's blade against the man's throat. "My Mystic code involves making contracts."

"What are you getting at…?" Archer raises an eyebrow.

"Call me paranoid, but I like to take one step further than command seals and verbal promises. Because as soon as I run out of command seals to control you I bet you'll have no problem firing three arrows into my face. Therefore, I want to be absolutely sure you will serve me until your dyeing breath."

"I still don't follow. My word and those command seals should be enough to let my former master go."

"Yeah, well I have trust issues, so I'm going to have you sign a little contract for me. It's a different form of a mage contract, something of my own creation. I've named it Pandora's contract. If either of us breaks this contract, mana will rush out of our bodies so fast it will kill us and wipe out everything in a two block radius. Individually of course. Think of it as a more improved version of a mage contract. It's far more… persuasive… So I will let your master free unharmed and you will never once need to be reprimanded with a command seal because you will follow every order I give you. Is it a deal dear Archer?"

"I accept." Immediately, Caster drops the blade and Archer's former master falls onto his chest coughing and holding his bloody throat. In silver letters, the words Archer and Caliber S. Black appear in the air and vanish. Cali starts laughing.

"The pact has been made. Not only am I not the master of two servants now, but two servants that follow my every order. My brilliant plan is in place." She raises up her finger and points to Archer's former master as he flees for the door, crawling on all fours. "Caster, I was you to turn that miserable piece of filth into something harmless, like a dog or something." Almost like a puppet on a string, Caster rises from her resting place and begins walking toward the man.

"You said he would be unharmed! God Damn it!" Archer pulls out a bow and readies an arrow to fire at Caster.

"To the contrary dear Archer, I asked her to turn him into a Dog, in no way does that cause him harm. My contract with you still remains entirely intact." Caster silently walks over to the man as he tries to grab the door knob. She places her hand square on the man's head and utters several lines of a chant. Within seconds the man is mutating and writhing in wry shapes. After some clawing at the ground and shouting, the human skin is shed off in chunks. Caster stands back as the group is greeted to a German Sheppard that barks and paws at the door. Caster casually opens the door and the dog runs out. "That particular power being my only other use for Caster. Shape shifting others is quite handy." She raises a hand up to archer and one to Caster. "This was just a test." She laughs again. Archer lowers his bow and let's his mouth hang open as he sinks to his knees in submission. "And from what I can tell, it works flawlessly. As your first assignment, I'd like the both of you to locate and hunt down berserker for me. For he is the final piece in my plan. Once I control him, the grail will fall in my lap."


End file.
